Good Boy (WAGs #1)

“No—”

“Yes. I mean it, J-Babe. I want to give you this gift.”

She sighs. “You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”

I grin widely. “She’s learning.”

She starts doing the lip-biting thing again, which stirs the Blake Snake to life. I ease my hips back slightly so she doesn’t feel my semi-snake pressing against her belly. I don’t want her to think I want to bone her right now. Or worse—that she has to bone me in exchange for this plane ticket.

“Don’t you get it by now?” I say gruffly. “I want you to be happy. I want to be the one making you happy. Cuz that’s what—”

“Couples do?” she finishes, a wry smile playing on her lips.

“Yup. That’s what couples do. They make each other happy.” I reach down and smack her ass. “So open up that laptop of yours and find us a good flight deal.”

“Us?”

Shit. I immediately regret the phrasing, because there’s a happy glimmer in her eyes now. But there’s no way I can go to Cali with her—we’ve got three days of East Coast road games this week. That’s why Wes can’t go.

“You,” I correct ruefully. “I wish I could come with you, but it doesn’t work with our schedule.”

“Right.” She nods. “The road games.” There’s a pause. “Maybe next time?”

I can’t hide the pleasure that swamps me. It shows itself in the form of a broad smile. “You’d really take me home with you?”

“Why not? My folks already know we’re dating. Besides, it’s not a real relationship until you’ve been interrogated, tortured and made fun of by my siblings.”

I snicker. “Let ’em try. I can out-torture anyone, babe. I just act extra annoying and they wave a white flag to get me to stop babbling.”

She snorts, then wanders back to the couch and picks up her laptop. I stand back for a moment, admiring the way her loose shirt slides off one smooth shoulder. And how long her legs look in those stretchy yoga pants. And how fucking hot she looks sitting on my couch.

My gaze shifts to the stack of textbooks on my coffee table. And the bright blue winter jacket draped over one of the counter stools. Her laptop case on the hardwood. And then there are the items I can’t see—Jess’s toothbrush and toiletries in my bathroom. The extra PJs—my favorite ones with the cartoon bananas—she keeps in my dresser.

These past few weeks, little signs of Jess have made their way into my apartment. And…I like it. I like coming home after a brutal game to find that she let herself in with the spare key I gave her and cooked dinner for me. I like snuggling up to her warm, soft body and falling asleep together.

“If you’re serious about this ticket, there’s a crazy deal happening on this travel site right now,” she says from the sofa.

“Jess…” I say slowly.

She peers up from the screen. “Yeah?”

I take a breath. Shit. Is this nuts? The last time I let a woman into my private domain, she turned my entire life upside down. She took my frickin’ dog and then abandoned him in another province. She broke my heart.

But Jess isn’t Molly. Jess isn’t insecure or vindictive or scared of anything other than looking like a failure in the eyes of the people she loves.

I want her to move in. I do. But the doubts have already crept in, and as she sits there looking at me with those inquisitive brown eyes, I can’t bring myself to make the offer.

So I say, “Make sure to check LastMinuteAir.com. They’ve, ah, got some good deals, too.”





31 Reunited and It Feels So Sexy





Jess


When I return to Toronto after Thanksgiving, I feel completely and utterly rejuvenated. The trip to California was just what I needed, and I hadn’t realized just how much I missed my family until I was back in their loud, crazy, chaotic clutches again. I swear my niece Lilac has doubled in size. Joe has a new girlfriend. Tammy’s husband got a promotion. Brady grew what Jamie and I dubbed a “pimp mustache.”

I was sad to say goodbye to them, but happy to say hello to Blake. I can’t believe how much I missed that big oaf—and I was gone for only two days. My first order of business when I got back was taking a cab to his place straight from the airport and spending about, oh, ten hours in bed with him.

Blake called it our reunited and it feels so sexy sexy-times. I pointed out that the back-to-back use of the word sexy was kind of redundant, at which point he said I was redundant and proceeded to fuck me again. Which leads me to believe he doesn’t know what redundant means.